Serving Time
by TerraClara
Summary: Tommy is incarcerated on a six-month sentence. Unfortunately, there's one prisoner who's out to make Tommy's life hell. Adommy, but mostly focuses on Tommy's time in prison. M for language and graphic violence. One-Shot with possibilities of a sequel.


**This is a one-shot I wrote in the hopes of getting through the writer's block that's taken a hold of NSFLY. No such luck, but I think it turned out alright.  
Guys, this one has the F-word. Multiple times. Sorry ... Uhm, both of them.**

I don't own Adam Lambert or Tommy Joe, this is for entertainment, I'm not getting money, yada yada. I DO own Rick, Joe, and Harris. Unfortunately. They're always getting in fights. They just tolerate each other for the story.

****Oh, and I do not in any way condone or support hate crimes or homophobic name-calling and treatment. I do realize my stories have a lot of this kind of thing, and I wanted to let you know that I write about it _**because**_** I cannot stand it. Also, the word "faggot" greatly disgusts me, and it's quite difficult to inject terms that I dislike so passionately into my work. Please keep that in mind when reading.****  
**

"No, please!" Tommy Ratliff's voice rang out in the packed courtroom. Though he figured most of the people were there to see Adam Lambert lose his composure. Interesting articles, right? Tommy hated them. He especially hated the man sitting at the low oak table to his right. The guy had a smirk dusted lightly on his face. Tommy didn't even know the guy, just that he had attacked his boyfriend. 

Adam had been walking in New York when this man had jumped him. Luckily, Tommy was there, too. He pulled the guy off of Adam and punched him a couple times. A couple had turned to a lot, and someone nearby had called the cops. Adam had tried to get Tommy away from the man, but he couldn't. Beaten to unconsciousness, it said on the police report. 

Tommy was only trying to protect Adam. But for some reason he had just lost control. He figured that he deserved this. He was afraid of himself. 

"Six months, no parole." The judge slammed the podium loudly. Tommy had thought the older women would be nicer. Wrong. Years of working in the business had toughened her. 

"Fuck, no!" Adam's voice echoed off the flawless tile floors and deeply colored wood walls. The woman's eyes swiveled toward him. 

"Silence!" She paused. "You have ten minutes. Everyone else, out." The reporters and photographers filed out the doors, chattering noisily. Once the doors were closed, Adam almost sprinted to Tommy's chair, where he sat slumped over the table. 

"Oh, Glitterbaby. It's going to be okay. Everything is gonna be alright. Six months isn't long, right?" Adam sounded like he was comforting himself more than his boyfriend. 

Tommy looked up. "Adam, I love you. I don't think I've ever said that before, and I just want you to know." 

Adam leaned forward and hugged Tommy tightly. His voice was muffled by the collar of the blonde's jacket. 

"I love you, too, baby. We're gonna be okay..." 

xxxxx 

Tommy pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to get comfortable in his corner of the concrete cell. He was with another guy, but there was only one bed. He wondered how the guards let that happen. He supposed that since they knew he was gay, they thought he wouldn't mind sharing beds with another guy. The idiots didn't think about how the other would feel about it. And Tommy wasn't about to ask for the bed, even for one night. Not after what had happened in the showers on the third day. 

He had walked in semi-self-consciously, after noticing during "free time" the second day how huge all the men were. He glanced down at his own barely-visible abs and scrawny arms. No match for anyone, especially since they were all near twice his size. He slipped into the last shower stall, right on the end, as it made him feel more safe. The doors didn't lock, so now, looking back, Tommy wondered why he had felt that sense of security. 

He had finished his shower and gotten out, wrapping a towel around his waist. The blonde had hurried to the locker room, trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. 

Tommy remembered the three guys who had cornered him. 

"Hey, faggot," They said. "You're gonna regret having come to jail." As if it had been his choice. They had beaten him. Tommy tried to put up a fight to no avail. He gave up, letting them kick his sides and punch his arms and face. 

The blonde recalled what he had said the second day in the commons. The other incarcerated were naturally curious about him, being new and all. 

"Why are you here, blondie?" One of the scarier guys asked. 

"I-I beat up a guy..." Tommy's answer was vague, and the men wanted to know more. 

"Why?" 

"He-he attacked my... my-" 

"Your girlfriend?" One of them interrupted. 

"No." Tommy took a deep breath. "My boyfriend." The guys had laughed amongst themselves, jeering at him and called him names. Tommy had shrunken back and fled to his cell. Much safer there. 

It was the fifth day now, and the blonde was falling into a pattern. Shower, beating, breakfast, free time, lunch, work (community service or a workout, usually), dinner, beating, sleep, repeat. His life consisted of eating and hurt, and it seemed like he would endure it forever. Or until he snapped. 

A loud bang interrupted his thoughts, and Tommy's head shot up. Oh, it was after dinner. He had skipped this time, having no desire to eat. The noise was the cell door, a heavy lead one with a tiny hole for the guards, banging back against the dreary grey concrete. The man in the doorway was the reason for Tommy's fear and the very bane of homophobia. 

His beady black eyes constantly darted around, as if he was afraid of getting caught at something. He had an XXL prison uniform, that ugly orange Tommy had started to hate, and nice brown shoes he had probably stolen. His skin was barely visible under all the tattoos painted on his arms, legs, head, and Tommy imagined everywhere else. Not that he liked imagining the guy's body. But maybe he might have nice muscles or pretty eyes if he wasn't hurting the blonde all the time. 

Tommy unconsciously pushed himself further back into the corner, hoping Rick had forgotten about him. No such luck. 

"Hey, faggot. Why'd you skip dinner? I was _so_ looking forward to hurting you." Rick jeered, revealing gnarly, rotting teeth. Tommy knew not to answer, so he just shrugged and looked down, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs; his head rested on his knees. But apparently Rick was looking for a response, as he strode to Tommy and kicked him forcefully. 

"I asked a question, homo." The blonde muttered weakly. 

"Wasn't hungry." Rick snorted. 

"So you're starving yourself? Lemme tell ya, it's not like you get out if you don't eat. You're already sick-scrawny as it is, fag." Tommy nodded. 

Rick snapped his fingers. The blonde knew what that meant, and he stood quickly. He had always been embarrassed by his height, but now it was just pathetic. He barely grazed Rick's shoulders with the top of his head. 

"Ready for hurt, faggot?" 

xxxxx 

Tommy winced and gently poked at his new bruises. It was day eight of pain, nothing new. The blonde wondered in the back of his mind why Adam hadn't come to visit, but really, surviving was his top priority. He didn't have time for luxuries like happiness. But at least he had his own bed, now. A new, softer guard had noticed he was sleeping on the floor and gotten another one for him. Not that it really made a difference. He still got beaten, especially in the showers. This morning had been the worst so far. 

**Flashback  
**

Tommy stalked to the showers as quietly as possible, trying to make himself smaller. Rick and his friends, Joe and Harris, were on the prowl today. He had come to hate shower time. Maybe that's why his hair was so gross and limp lately. He hadn't really had time to wash it, what with being hurt all the time. 

"Hello, fag." Tommy froze and looked up to see the ugly faces of Rick and Joe towered above him. God, he hated being so small. 

"W-what do you want?" Tommy was mortified to hear his voice come out weakly. 

"You fucking know." Rick pushed Tommy almost unexpectedly, and the blonde lost his balance. Before he could get back up from his painful connection with the tile, however, a large foot was planted heavily on his chest. Tommy gasped as the breath was forced out of his lungs. Joe had basically stepped on his ribs with all his weight. The blonde felt another foot as Rick's booted toes made contact with his ribs. Tommy thrashed, but he hadn't regained his breath yet, so it was a silent plea. He struck out, kicking Rick's knee. The huge man yelled and stumbled back, though Tommy saw with wide eyes that the movement had just made Rick angrier. The man got down on said knees and straddled Tommy's lower legs, gripping his upper thighs with enough strength to bruise. 

"Don't. Do that." He nodded to Joe, who took his foot off the blonde's chest. He gasped, breathing hard. But his relief was short-lived, as Joe had just turned and stepped on Tommy's wrists, instead. The blonde screamed in pain. 

"Joe." Rick spoke. Joe moved his feet to Tommy's fingers, and he yelled out in anguish as he felt a couple break. 

Rick was sitting firmly on Tommy's shins, but now his hands moved, and he leaned forward. They made a slow trail up Tommy's heaving chest and onto his face, where they lingered a moment, before the man reared back and punched the blonde as hard as he could. Tommy's head snapped to the side, and he cried out, blood running into his mouth. The salty-sweetness coated his tongue. Rick punched him again, and again. Tommy's eyelids started getting heavy after one particularly hard hit to the head. 

_"I gotta stay awake... For Adam..."_ If he passed out, who knew what Rick and Joe would do. Tommy concentrated on the tile his cheek was currently lying on. It was light blue, just plain, smooth tile. The blonde could see all the little cracks and crevices and grooves from his vantage point. He decided that it was similar to himself. You could only see the pain if you were close enough.  
Rick's hand around his throat brought Tommy back to his senses. 

"Did you hear me, fag? I asked you a fucking question!" 

"W-what?" Tommy's voice was breathy from lack of oxygen. He was starting to get dizzy. 

"I asked you who the scum of the earth was! Tell me, bitch." 

"M-me?" Rick's tattooed hand hit his cheek with a sharp crack. 

"Yeah. Don't ever forget it." He punched Tommy in the stomach and pulled back to his upright sitting position on the blonde's shins. Rick's hand was the last to leave Tommy's body by trailing over his groin and being planted to the side of him on the tile. He got up and gestured again to Joe, who lifted his feet off Tommy's fingers. The blonde immediately curled into a tiny ball, as little as his body would let after that beating. Rick smirked and kicked him one last time. 

**End Flashback  
**

Tommy rubbed his bruises in memoriam. Damn, that had hurt. But he was stronger than that! He wasn't a weakling! Fuck, there was a _reason _he was in jail! He beat a guy unconscious! Tommy frowned. That wasn't really something to be proud of... But god, why didn't he DO something about Rick? An idea formed under his dirty blonde hair. 

xxxxx 

Tommy curled up in his bed. He had gotten his fingers dressed, three on each hand, and the gauze was itchy. Of course he had told the guy in there (who he doubted was a licensed professional) that he had slammed his fingers in the door... Twice. Of course the man didn't believe him. He probably thought Tommy had gotten in a fight and broken the fingers punching someone. The guy didn't notice they were bent backward, and not forward. He didn't ask. Fuck him. 

xxxxx 

Tommy lay silently in his bed, waiting in the pitch blackness of the cell. Rick would be coming back from wherever he went after dinner. Probably drug-related. Payback was a bitch, and the inmate was about to learn it. Tommy had been working on this plan for three weeks. It was Day 34. Tommy's eyes grew unwillingly heavy. 

xxxxx 

A small scuffling noise awoke Tommy in the middle of the night on Day 34. His plan was about to be put into place, he couldn't be interrupted! Although, later Tommy would say he forgot all about the plan after what happened next. 

A shadow grew out of the black. Before Tommy could even open his mouth to scream, a hand clamped over his face. The thumb on the offending hand stroked his jaw. Tommy's eyes widened. Who _was_ this guy? 

The shadow gestured for him to be quiet and get up. After being in jail for over a month, Tommy had all but lost his fight. He got up. The man grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his bed. Tommy let him.  
The black-clad man led the blonde to the door, which was ajar. He pushed it open farther and pulled Tommy out. Who, by the way, was starting to worry. What if they were caught? Tommy couldn't afford to spend even more time incarcerated. His body wouldn't be able to handle it. And he was pretty sure Rick was dragging along a life sentence. Or two. 

The shadow crept down the white-wash hallway, the black clothing doing nothing but cause him to stand out. Tommy followed like a lost puppy. Finally they reached the end of the corridor, and the figure pushed open the already-unlocked door. Tommy walked along behind him, squinting at the sudden darkness. 

The shadow gestured at Tommy. _Keep going_. At this point, Tommy guessed they were close to the entrance. _Footsteps_. The black-clad figure jerked to a stop and turned on his heel. He pushed Tommy into a broom cupboard, following and shutting the door silently. He kept his ear pressed up against the wood. 

"...Yeah, and he didn't even know!" 

"Dude, impressive." The two guards laughed loudly, harshly, grating on Tommy's ears. 

"Hey, why's this door open?" Tommy heard the shadow's breath catch. 

"Dunno, man. Probably a janitor." 

"Dumbasses." 

Tommy let out his breath at the same time as Shadow. The guards continued on their way.  
Shadow lightly opened the door, wincing at the click it made, the one that echoed in the silence. The guards didn't come back. Shadow once again took Tommy's hand, and crept out of the closet. He put his finger to his lips and went around the corner, Tommy in tow.

The heavy-looking steel entrance door was ahead. The home stretch. Shadow led Tommy through the door and sprinted (low to the ground) across the brown grass jailyard. The blonde could barely keep up. Incarceration -and Rick- had done a number on his body both physically and mentally. Shadow glanced back worriedly once or twice as Tommy lagged behind.

They finally reached the edge of the yard and slipped through the already-open chain-link fence, running across the road into a heavily-wooded patch of land parallel to the jail. Shadow collapsed against a tree, panting from exertion and anxiousness. Tommy continued standing.

"Who the fuck are you, anyway? Why did you break me out?" Shadow looked at him.

"Oh, Tommy," Shadow whispered. The blonde didn't recognize the voice. Shadow stood and reached out to Tommy, stroking his disgusting stringy hair and the bruises visible on his face and arms. "What did they do to you?" Still whispering. Tommy jerked away from Shadow's soft fingertips.

"I said, who are you?" Shadow lifted the black from his face.

_Adam._

Tommy gasped and leapt forward into Shad- Adam's arms, knocking them both to the ground.

"Adam! Oh my god, you broke me out of jail! Adam!" Tommy kept himself from jumping with joy.

"I did. I spent the first four days you were gone being counterproductive and sobbing, and the other 30 days watching the guard schedule and formulating a plan," He kissed Tommy's lips, "I love you so much!" He hugged the blonde tightly. Tommy winced.

"Tommy? What are all these bruises?"

"Some fucking bastard decided to make me his prey 'cause I said I was gay on the second day. Whoops." (1)

"Tommy! You're _covered _in bruises! How do you shrug that off? I should kill him!" Tommy looked down.

"I'm with you. But- I just remembered... I didn't get to play out my revenge on Rick. Damn."

"What-"

"Nothing."

Adam smiled softly. "I'm so glad you're safe, now."

Tommy nodded. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And whatever happens next, know that."

And with that, the two kissed forever.

_~Fin~_

**xxxxx**

**Hm. I didn't really like the ending, I think it stopped too abruptly. Oh, well.**

**(1) Heh. **_**Prey, gay, day.**_** I'm a poet and I didn't know it! (Actually, I write poetry on an almost-daily basis. But yeah.)**


End file.
